She sat alone, in her room, by herself as she always did. Wherever her room was: Washington, California, Nevada, Connecticut she was alone. Alone with her dolls her parents gave her every birthday and Christmas. A new one to add to the collection. She never played with them. She hated dolls. They stayed in their glass casings on her closet, never opened...in perfect condition.
He promised to be there. It was fathers’ day at school and everyone had bought their dad in to tell the class what he did. A few worked in offices, a few worked in buildings, one was a policeman who also worked as a clown for parties. And one was a doctor. She admired this father, as much as a 6 year old can. She waited for her ‘daddy’ to walk into the classroom. For hours the other kids played with their dads and she sat alone in a corner with a puzzle. It took the other kids a long time to do...but she did it in 15 minutes. Her teacher came up to her once “Maggie...is your dad here yet?” “It’s Margaret...no.” she replied coldly. That’s all she ever was...cold. The teacher stood up and went over to a group of kids with their dads. Silently a tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away and continued with another puzzle. When it came for her turn to show her daddy...she stood up, put her strong face on and said “My daddy’s in the army...he’s too busy training soldiers to be here.” And with that she sat back down and continued to stare at her desk. He never came. She watched the other kids get in cars and drive home with their dads, she had to walk home, as usual, alone.
She walked onto the base; it was empty barring the 2 guard on duty who were playing poker. ‘Must be target practice’ she thought. Silently she walked past where the guards were playing, head down not looking around. She walked up to where their ‘house’ was and went inside. No one was home...she was alone. She walked through the living area, down the hall and into her room. Neat, tidy and clean as always. She never had anything to do but clean. She sat her bag on the door handle, took off her shoes and socks and lied down on her bed. School had finished an hour ago...she was tired and was upset. She’d never let it surface though. That would be weak.
She stared at the dolls...she hated them.
Closing her eyes she remembered the only holiday they went on. She was 4 and they headed up to Montana to visit her grandmother. It was her most precious memory and she loved the time spent up there. She didn’t find it unusual that they were on a holiday. A month after they got back her grandmother was dead.
She awoke after hearing tiny footsteps in the hallway. “Magwet?” Apparently she wasn’t alone. “Where’s mom?” she asked the 3 year old. “Gawn.” Replied the baby, sniffling. She had a cold and was home by herself. “Where?” “No” meant Elizabeth didn’t know. “Dwink” the baby was thirsty and their mother hadn’t been home for some time. “Come on.” She took the younger girl’s hand and walked into the kitchen. She stood on tip-toes to reach the sink and made a grab for the tap; water spurted everywhere. She got angry. She went into the living room and started dragging the table to the kitchen. Once done she stood on it and filled up the bottle with water. The baby stayed silent throughout everything. “Tank ooh Magwet” the little girl said politely, sticking the bottle in her mouth and drinking.
The phone rang. It was the police. “Mr Houlihan?” the man asked “He’s not home.” She sighed. “Who is this?” she then asked. “My name’s Officer Dalby...we have a Mrs Houlihan in custody.” Her face dropped. ‘Not again’ she thought. “MAGWET!” the baby screamed. “Hold on please.” She asked him, getting down off the chair and over to her sister. “What’s wrong?” “Wan daddy!” the infant demanded. “Okay I’ll go find him.” She got back up on the chair. “Yes?” “When can Mr Houlihan come in?” “I don’t know...I have to find him...Elizabeth wants him.” She said loudly over the 3 year olds screaming and crying. “Are you home alone?” he asked as she hung up. “Let’s go find daddy.”
The two walked across the base alone...it was spring and the place was covered in small, white flowers. Elizabeth was still crying and her sister was becoming anxious. Their mother had abandoned them yet again and their daddy was too busy to care. Walking into the main office she peaked her head over the desk to see Sergeant Hortenski at the desk. “Have you seen my daddy?” she asked him. He saw her and then the baby crying. “No I haven’t. Where’s your mom?” he asked getting up and coming round. “She’s in the slammer.” She knew her father had said not to tell anyone anything...but she didn’t care...he wasn’t there today. “Oh” was all the young man said. He picked up the sniffling baby. “She’d got a cold. I gave her water.” “What did you have for lunch Miss Houlihan?” he asked the baby, who had stopped crying. “Hungy.” She hadn’t eaten. “You’re hungry eh? How about some crackers?” he asked. The baby nodded and he got up with her. “You hungry too?” he asked her. “No, I’m fine.” She said.
Because it was fathers’ day at school...everyone had brought a big lunch. She was given food by other fathers’ who felt sorry she was alone.
“How about we go find your dad then?” he then asked the older girl. She shook her head as the baby ate the crackers. She didn’t want to see her father. She was angry with him...really angry. “Well then...how about you two stay with me until your dad finishes okay?” he asked. The two nodded in reply as he started...“Tell me what happened at school Margaret.”
Part 2: Ten
It had been her birthday. The big 1-0. She had woken up to see a package at the foot of the bed. She didn’t open it. She knew what it was. Another damn doll. Hadn’t they realised she had out grown them at 3? Walking out she saw her sister eating toast and jam. No one else was around. No one else was ever around. ‘Happy birthday Margaret!’ her sister said slightly upbeat. She smiled lightly and grabbed some ready-made toast. ‘I got you a present.’ The 7 year old said and pulled out a small package. She smiled brightly; too small to be a doll. ‘I hope you like it.’ The younger girl continued. She unwrapped it carefully to reveal a small gold bracelet. “Thanks” she said, getting up to hug her sister.
In recent years things had become worse. Their parents never spoke to each other, the girls never spoke to their mother and when their father was around – which was rare because of his promotion – the only words said were ‘hello’ and ‘goodnight’…usually only ever the ‘hello’. The two had to stick together to survive. They left for school alone, and they always came back to an empty house. Both were apt students – always asking for more work to take home. School for them was a sanctuary from the silent hell they went through at home. They both had few friends and at each new base they went to, the numbers diminished. They did their homework, cleaned the ‘house’ then the two would attempt dinner. On rare occasions their mother did get home before 6 and cooked. But that was rare. No one else on any base knew what was going on. Her father never found out what she told the Sergeant 4 years ago. Not that he would have done anything but yell. The yelling wasn’t bad.
The two finished their breakfast, talking about nothing in particular…just talking. They changed their clothes, packed their bags and walked out. They had been at this school for nearly 3 months and the adjusting stage was well on its way. Thankfully the distance between the base and the school was only a 15-minute walk. The bell had gone and everyone headed inside to their classrooms.
The morning was spent on spelling and reading. She was good at that. Always getting the top mark in the class, yet never making a big deal about it. The class spent half an hour reading before heading outside for gym. She was also good at that. Coming from a military background it was expected. After recess everyone headed back inside for math and science. She detested math; not that she was bad at it. She never could understand why go into something. Why they just couldn’t accept that things were the way it was and that was it. She loved science. It was her favourite. This semester was on how the body worked; her admiration for people in medicine came in good practice for this particular topic. An hour before lunch, the class started on social studies. Geography bored her immensely. They were doing a team activity on volcanoes; all the girls just talked and all the boys did the work. She didn’t mind talking…but she could never talk to the girls; they were all just too different. After 20 minutes of civil war history – another tedious and boring task, they headed out to lunch. She found her sister and the two sat under a tree, eating their packed lunch from the night before. ‘At least art was next’ she thought.
When the bell went the two said their goodbyes and went into class. There, she saw the whole class gathered around a few tables with a reasonable-sized cake in the middle, with 10 candles in it. She couldn’t help but smile. After singing happy birthday and blowing out the candles, cake was served and the class had the rest of the afternoon off to talk and play. When the time to go home came, she gave her sister the last slice of cake and the two walked home; in a much less morbid mood.
As the two walked into the house, they noticed something different. The blinds were open and the side door was open. Their father was home. The two walked into the living room and there sat their father with a blank look on his face. The two bid him a good afternoon and put their things in their rooms. She had an unsettling feeling. He wasn’t supposed to be home; there was a routine, which he had disrupted.
He knocked on her door and came in. “Margaret.” “Dad.” Cold as ice. “Where’s your mother?” he asked. He didn’t know what she did…he always assumed she was home. The few times the police had called; she made excuses. “I don’t know.” She said blankly. “Did she say where she was going this morning to you?” he asked her. “She wasn’t here this morning.” He was starting to aggravate her. She could see Elizabeth standing at her door listening; looking out for her. “Why wasn’t she?” her father said in a loud tone. “HOW SHOULD I KNOW? SHE’S NEVER HERE!” She yelled. He was asking all these stupid questions he should have known about. She could see her father was put back by her yelling. To him she was always a very quiet child. The fact that his wife was ‘never home’ according to her was an overstatement, and he reacted in the only way he could. “Margaret Houlihan don’t you dare yell at me!” he said forcefully. “Like you would care anyway? Father.” If words were measured in seasons…hers would have been the dead of winter. He changed the topic very quickly. “You haven’t opened your present.” He observed. She remained silent. “Don’t you want it?” he asked angry. That was it. “No in fact I don’t.” “Well why not?” “Because I already know what it is. It’s the same thing I get EVERY YEAR!” she screamed. “I hate dolls…I’ve always hated dolls.” She declared finally, throwing the package down and hearing glass shatter. Her father got up and walked out. She heard the familiar front door shut and she sat down and cried. Her sister came over and hugged her. “We have to stick together Margaret…we have to beat them…we have to be better than them.” “Yes…we do,” She looked up. “Happy birthday…Maggie” And the pair stood up and began to clean up the shattered glass.
Part 3: Sixteen
This was it. All their moving throughout all the years had now reached the grand number of 50. Last year she finally gave up having friends when her closest one moved to Canada. 16 years old and now the closest friend…the only friend she had was her 13-year-old sister. The two had kept their promise of sticking together; there wasn’t any other choice besides to die. They were sharing a room for the first time since Elizabeth was a baby. They opted to share, there were two other spare rooms in the house they could have. But sharing was the only option. Their father was now head of this particular base they were on in Georgia and saw even less of his family. Never was a hard step to get below…but Alvin ‘Howitzer’ Houlihan did just that. Their mother had the previous year, turned to drinking. She did not find happiness with her husband, the army was no longer her life and she didn’t know how to communicate with her daughters. They had put a lock on their door…Kathryn’s drinking quite honestly terrified them and the slight scar on Elizabeth’s arm was a reminder of how violent alcoholics can get.
The two began to unpack everything they had. Everything in material terms wasn’t much. The day after her 10th birthday the dolls all went into the trash. Hers and her sisters. Apart from them, mostly they had clothes, a few books and a bear each from their grandmother who had given them to the girls before she died. They didn’t care what they had or didn’t have. As long as they stuck together everything would be okay. The pair both helped in the base hospital; the two wanting to become nurses they figured early practice was good…and it was a great time killer. They were both excelling at their studies; Margaret was in high school and Elizabeth was still in middle school; their time apart was healed only by their determination to achieve as much as they could.
They heard to front door open and shut. It was 8pm…no one was expected home for another 2 hours. Peeking outside their room she saw her mother stumbling around. She quickly shut the door and locked it. “That’s it!” “What is?” “I’ve had enough…stop unpacking, we’re outta here.” Her sister nodded in reply and the two began re-packing as much as they could into two suitcases. Clothes, a book each and their bear. The two stayed silent, listening to hear if their mother had gone…or collapsed. After hearing nothing but the wind and outside noise, the two crept out. She went over to a bowl near the front door. Inside was about 50 dollars in small notes and coins. She took the lot. Stuffing it in her schoolbag the two silently left the house, making their way across the base, sticking to the shadows and out the gate. Where they were heading she wasn’t sure.
Things weren’t always like this. In the beginning before her sister was born, her and her parents were a happy family. Her father always spoke to her about his great days in World War One and how he shot down 17 German spy-gliders. Her mother was quite useful, taking care of her, putting her to sleep, reading to her and feeding her. Things were picture perfect. Until Elizabeth was born. Until she turned 4 and her sister 1, things were generally okay. There was a slowly sliding descent of communication between everyone. By the time she was in school, she had to take care for herself and her sister 50% of the time. By her 10th birthday, she was taking care of herself all the time and her sister 75% of the time. Now it was like neither of them existed. She never blamed her sister. She knew the real reason why their father didn’t want anything to do with them, why their mother ignored them. She wasn’t a boy. And neither was her sister. Complications with Elizabeth’s birth meant her mother could not have more children and her father’s wishes of a son to make a soldier were dashed. Secretly…she always thought if she joined the army…if she did all she could to be that soldier…that her father would love her. Not even her sister knew of her desire to make her father proud.
The pair went to a payphone and looked up the directory for their old base in North Carolina…the only adult who really cared about the two was there. Marty Hortenski…the Sergeant who kept secret her confession about her mother. They found the number and called. “Is Sergeant Hortenski still stationed there?” she asked hopeful. “Marty?” “Yes” “Yeah sure he’s still here…a lieutenant though now.” “Great” she muttered. “What…isn’t he there?” her sister asked. “Yes…but he’s an officer” she grumbled. “Patching you through now.”
After a minute or so “Lieutenant Hortenski here.” “Uh…do you remember about…10 years ago, 2 small girls stationed there?” “Yes…why…who is this?” “Do you also remember you told the older one that if ever something happened she was to call you.” “Something along those lines yeah…” “Well I’m calling now.” “Is that you Miss Houlihan?” “Yeah…it is.” “Well how the heck are you…what it’s been…” “10 years yes. I…we’re not so good.” “Why? What’s happened?” In 5 minutes she brought him up to speed on everything that had happened in the past 10 years. “And…I’m calling now.” She finished. “Margaret…I don’t know what I can do from here. Can I give you some advice?” “Yes.” “I know things at home are terrible. If I could take you 2 away I would…but the army would have me hung higher than my wife’s washing. And there’s really not much I can do except say you’ve stuck it out this far…in 18 months you’ll be old enough to leave.” “What about my sister!” she exclaimed. “Take her with you…if things are as bad as you say…and I believe you…your parents won’t really care.” “You really think so?” “Trust me. Look I gotta go now Margaret…if you ever need to call again or just wanna talk…ring me on…” and he gave her the number “Alright?” “Yeah. Thanks again.” “Okay I’ll see ya round.” And he hung up.
She leaned against the side of the box, taking a deep breath. She really didn’t want to go back…anything but being stuck there. But if they were going to make it…they had to. “Come on…let’s go back.” She said, her voice trembling. The two sisters headed back to the base with heavy hearts and the feeling they had been let down, once again.
Part 4: Twenty
She had done it. She was now a nurse in the United States Army. All 20 years of army life and now, she was a part of it. The day of their indoctrination was a proud moment for her. Her sister had taken time away from school to attend the ceremony; she had given her permission.
18 months after her last call from a phone booth; she had done it. She moved out from home and into a training base. With her she had taken her sister; away from the terror the two had put up with in the recent years of their mother’s alcohol abuse. Her mother had struck her once, not a wise decision. She had grown up from the shy, timid six-year-old who avoided dolls at all costs. Her mother never expected her to strike back: it just wasn’t common practice in 1942. She hit her back, with full force that a minute person of her stature could do. Her mother flew back a few feet, coming to rest against a table; knocked cold out. It was then she stormed away, a scared Elizabeth in tow and the two packed; a sense of deja-vu about them. 2 hours later they had everything, she left a note for her father and the sisters caught a cab to the bus station; heading back to her birthplace of Fort Ord. Her sister slowly settled in to her 32nd school; she reassured her she wouldn’t be moving til she had graduated. Elizabeth made friends this time. It was a harder change for her though. Her friend had since moved back from Canada…but the two were never as close as they used to be. She kept people at a distance during the day; but came out at parties, and always ‘forgot’ it the next day.
2 years and a lot of hard work later…she was now an official nurse of the United States army. She did not, however, notice until she was up on the stage, a familiar face sitting in the back row or so. Her father had come to see his daughter graduate as it were. A silent tear rolled down her cheek. One that symbolised love, happiness whilst at the same time, hate and hurt. She walked off the stage and was congratulated by her sister. Her father walked away, content at seeing she had joined the institution the Colonel so proudly hailed from.
When he had discovered his wife was home, unconscious, and still alive, he went to find his girls. Their rooms were empty. No books, no clothes, none of their little homely touches to be seen. All that remained was the furniture. He spotted the note on the kitchen table.
‘Dear Dad,
You probably haven’t noticed yet, or maybe you have, that we are nowhere to be seen. You may also observe that none of our personal possessions do either. And if you look more closely…so has the 50 dollars that you kept in the pot by the front. Like father like daughter, I have gone and joined the army. I am old enough to take responsibility of my life and I have begun to do so. Lizzie has come with me. No, she hasn’t joined; but she needs to get out of the environment that we’ve been living in for almost 10 years. You can’t control mom, and neither have you shown your ability to stop her from hurting us. You will also observe her unconscious. Yes dad, I did that. I had to. I did it in self-defence and for the safety of myself and my sister. Please don’t try to take her back; you’ll make her life more miserable. I’m not kidnapping her; I just want the best for my baby sister. I want to give her the stability you were never able to give us. I intend on paying you back the 50 dollars we used to get here.
If you need to contact us – i.e. mom or someone else dies…we’re home.
Sincerely yours, Margaret.’
Al became angry. Not because he disagreed with his oldest daughter, but because on some points, she was right. He never fought her for custody of his youngest; the two had always to him, been close and he only wanted the best for his children.
She watched him walk away with a heavy heart. She didn’t shed a tear though. She had learnt to be tough 14 years ago and would not falter in that. She was not surprised that her mother did not come. Her mother saw the girls as useless and unwanted. She did not know if that was really her mother talking though.
Life for them since leaving had adjusted just so. She went off at 0600 every morning after waking her sister, spent her day in classes and training and went home at 1700 to cook for the two. They discussed the days events; everything from algebra problems to the inner workings of Newton’s 2nd law of physics and on a few occasions, to the cute young boy her sister and friends had taken a liking for that week. She was, since she was 6, her sister’s mother. And at 2200, her sister was asleep and she was either studying, over at the hospital or in the rec hall celebrating national General Tom Dick or Harry’s day. Home by 0100 for 5 hours sleep; and near dead on her feet the next day.
The two walked and talked; her sister was nearing her own graduation and they were discussing her next move; to follow in her ‘mother’s’ footsteps: the army. It was the logical thing to do. Lieutenant Houlihan was in a few weeks up for reassignment; she had requested Georgia but would most likely end up in Vancouver knowing her luck. It was only because of her sister that reassignment was not sooner.
Al had rung his daughters and had spoken to them for the first time in 5 months. They were well, he was well, their mother was still as she was. Nothing much had changed. Their father had been denied promotion to brigadier general on the basis of ‘not enough Colonel-time’. Really it was his family situation that had cost him the star in the sky.
The two had walked outside, she was distracted and was not listening to her sister ramble. It was there she saw her father. Leaving Elizabeth, she walked over to him.
“Dad.” “Margaret.” “Been well?” “Fine, you?” “Fine also.” “Mother?”
“The same” Margaret sighed. She didn’t really expect any different. “Where are you to be assigned?” he asked her.
“I requested Georgia. After Elizabeth graduates, she’ll be heading here and I’ll hopefully be going there.”
Her father did something she had never seen him do. He smirked at her before replying “You never get what you want first assignment…with any luck, you’ll end up some place…like Vancouver.”
She grinned at him. Like father like daughter. And for that moment, all the emotional abuse she had suffered at the hands of that man were gone. All that was left was love. He quickly kissed her on the cheek before saying “I need to head back to Colorado for a meeting. I’ll speak to you soon Margaret.” happy
“Right dad.” She finished as he walked off.
Her sister came over to her. “Who were you talking to?” she asked, not recognising her own father. “Just someone I used to know.” She replied with a soft smile on her face as she watched him walk away.
The End
